[I used ChatGPT to make the image here, and Google's Gemini to write the story which required enough edits that I can't say it's entirely generated by AI as requested. Also, Gemini refused to generate the image because it's a living example of why you should not rely too much on AI until further notice. Imma let you read it, but first, I went to try to find a note I was sure James left in my last yearbook, but there were so many notes all over the thing I couldn't find it. What I did find was two things which are a bit sad (1) more than a few of the people who left cheerful high-school kid comments in my yearbook have since passed, and (2) the reason for this notation is that I was more than a friend to lot of the girls that left notes, and I regret that I was not better. The 'Cathy' here is not the one I dated in the summer of 1972 if someone remembers and is reading into this. Also, Heather (her real name) did not go to RCI, but she did attend that dance with me and as strange as it was, it actually happened. Note that Heather was nicer looking than the girl in the fake image, and I had hair down to my waste and was decidedly not nicer looking than the fake boy there. Thanks to the many, many people from RCI who allowed me to have just the absolute best time while being a total 'social loafer'.]
Remember those days, James? Riverdale, the '70s, and Championship Dreams
Man, life was fantastic back then. I remember our football team winning at Monarch Park while I was under the stands with my girlfriend trying to find a bit of privacy... They won four out of five years? That Riverdale magic was something special. But, beyond the games, it was the everyday stuff that still sticks with me after all these years.
Share, that drop-in tucked in the school basement... it was our own little world. Marco's and those greasy-good lunches, or grabbing a donut and coffee at The Cornerstone. Dances in the gym – remember when we got that band in, you know, the ones who went on to make it big?
I remember one high school dance, dancing to 'Breaking Up Is Hard To Do' with my girlfriend, Heather. Out of nowhere, Cathy came in, grabbed my long hair, dragged me out of the gym to the hall in front of the lockers, and launched into this huge scene, accusing me of being her boyfriend and cheating on her. Mind blown. I knew her, never had a conversation about dating with this girl. My actual girlfriend finally found us, and things got even more awkward and heated. There was yelling, some tears (maybe on all sides), and it became the talk of the school the following week. Good times!
Greenwood Park, a little slice of wild in the city, and those trips downtown... the Ex, all those bright lights and crazy rides. And who could forget how we'd sneak into the auditorium stairwell with the girls, thinking we were so slick?
Yeah, I guess there was a lunchroom, but who needed it? We had our crew and those were the spots that mattered.
Speaking of things that matter, that '75 teachers' strike hit hard. No graduation ceremony, man... a weird way to see it all end. Kinda stings, even now – you feel that too, right? But hey, we didn't let it define us, did we?
The championships, the hangouts, the missed milestones... it all shaped us. So, here's to RCI, the '70s, and the bonds we built back then, James. Memories that even an AI storyteller can't fully capture, but man, they still feel good.
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